


The Cold of Winter

by paladinpeterparker



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst!, F/M, Shirbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladinpeterparker/pseuds/paladinpeterparker
Summary: In which Anne comforts a grieving Gilbert.





	The Cold of Winter

Anne couldn’t help herself. The path was too straight, too narrow, and the snowy fields around her were so much more appealing to her imagination. She had meandered off the path a while back and now found herself deep in the woods, caught up in her own thoughts. The snow lay untouched in front of her, and the trees that stood in front of her were just beckoning her to come closer, to talk to them. The woods in the winter was truly a magical place to Anne. Through the trees up ahead, Anne glimpsed an open field, and she decided to head towards it. Once she was out of the woods, the sky seemed to open up again, calling out to her. She saw a few structures across the field and decided it wouldn’t go hurt to see them. So, she began to trek across the field, the snow crunching beneath her feet with each step. As she neared the structures, she realized that she recognized them. She had, without a thought, wandered onto the Blythe property.  
She considered turning around and leaving, but figured that it wouldn’t hurt to talk to Gilbert if she happened to pass by. Not that she wanted to talk to him. Because she didn’t. He was, though, one of the only people she could discuss her future vocation with. Since he had decided he wanted to be a doctor and she had admitted that she wanted to be a teacher, the two found that they could talk for hours about what they planned to do in their professions.  
Anne pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked up. In front of her sat the cemetery where Gilbert’s father had been buried just two years ago. As she looked into the cemetery, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of remorse for Gilbert. Anne knew it was awful to not have parents but thought that maybe Gilbert’s pain was worse than hers had been. How awful it must be, to lose someone you knew so well and loved so much. To have them torn away in the blink of an eye, the beat of a heart. Even if Gilbert had known that his father was close to death, it must have still been awful to have him pulled away. The thought almost brought Anne to tears, as she couldn’t imagine losing Matthew or Marilla in such a way.  
She stepped closer to the fence surrounding the cemetery. As she stepped forward, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye that made her heart jump in surprise. On the other side of the cemetery sat a solitary figure on a bench, his dark hair and black coat a stark contrast against the pure, white snow behind him.  
Anne knew right away who the person was, but she was reluctant to call out, afraid she might startle him. So, she made her way to the bench where Gilbert Blythe sat.  
He looked up as she approached, clearly surprised to see her standing there.  
“Gilbert?” Anne said. “Hi.”  
Gilbert frowned, confused. “Anne. What are you doing here?”  
Anne shrugged. “I got caught up imagining things in the woods, and I wandered out onto the field -- the snow was so beautiful and pristine, I just couldn’t resist -- and then I saw you sitting here, and I thought I’d go talk to you.”  
Gilbert looked down at the ground in front of him, sighed, and looked back up at Anne. “Do you want to sit?” He asked, gesturing to the spot on the bench next to him.  
Anne nodded, then sat down next to Gilbert. From here, she got a much better look at his face. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were flushed from the constant blowing of the wind. He looked sad, desolate, and Anne had never really seen him look sad like this before. At his father’s funeral, she had only seen glimpses of this grief. And, after that, she hadn’t really seen it again. It almost scared her -- how vulnerable he looked. She tore her eyes away from his face, afraid her gaze would make him self-conscious.  
His hands were bare, settled in his lap. The pale skin stood out against the dark pants he wore, and his fingertips were red from the cold.  
“Gilbert!” Anne exclaimed. “Where are your gloves? Your hands are going to freeze!”  
Without thinking, she took one of his hands and enveloped it between her two gloved hands. The color drained from her face when she looked up at Gilbert and saw him smiling softly at her.  
Gilbert let out a small laugh, letting his gaze drop to their clasped hands. “Your concern is...different, Anne. I didn’t think you cared.”  
Anne scowled at Gilbert. “Of course I care,” she snapped.  
Gilbert laughed again, still looking down at their hands. Now Anne was looking at their hands, too. She knew that one of them should pull their hands away, but neither she nor Gilbert was moving. It was as if the cold had frozen them both into statues.  
“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Gilbert said, shifting his gaze up to Anne’s face.  
She glanced up as well, meeting his eyes. “I know.”  
“Then why are you still here? I didn’t think you liked me enough to stay.” Gilbert watched Anne as if he was looking for some sort of sign that what he said was true.  
Anne sighed. “Look, Gilbert. When I saw you sitting here, you looked...sad. And alone. I understand the sad part, of course, considering where you are. And I understand that perhaps you’d like to be alone in your grief. I find, however, that sometimes it’s difficult to be on one’s own in a time of grief. It makes everything seem so much worse. I thought that maybe you would like some companionship while you sit here. But if you’d rather be alone, that’s fine.” She looked up at him, a silent question in her eyes.  
Gilbert shook his head. “I’m grateful for the company, Anne.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back.  
Then, suddenly, as if snapped out of a trance: “Give me your other hand,” Anne demanded.  
Gilbert frowned. “Why?”  
Anne sighed. “Because, Gilbert. Your other hand is probably freezing.”  
Gilbert lifted his other hand and held it out to Anne, where she clasped both of his hands between her own. “You know,” she said, “you wouldn’t be a very good doctor without hands.”  
Gilbert chuckled softly. “I suppose so.”  
“So then where are your gloves?” Anne frowned at Gilbert, who just shrugged.  
“Sometimes,” he said, looking over at the cemetery, “I like to imagine that the snowflakes falling from the sky are from my father. I like to think he’s sending them to me to let me know that he’s okay and that he misses me.” Gilbert looked down, and for a brief second, he closed his eyes. “And if I take my gloves off, I can feel the cold of the snowflakes on my hand, and I can almost picture him here with me. Almost.” His voice wavered on the last word, and Anne felt a wave of sympathy crash over her.  
A silence settled over the two of them as Gilbert tried to regain his composure and Anne struggled to find what to say next.  
Finally, Anne spoke, breaking the silence. “It is truly awful,” she said, “to live in such a world where we must experience this kind of loss.”  
“But, what would life be without love and without loss?” Gilbert implored, glancing over at Anne.  
Anne considered this and sighed. “It would be rather plain, wouldn’t it? It would hardly be a life at all.”  
Gilbert nodded. “We risk so much when we chose to love another person. We could lose them at any time, and we wouldn’t be prepared for it.”  
“I suppose that’s the trouble with love,” Anne remarked. “But, from what I’ve read in books, love is well worth its risks.”  
Gilbert smiled faintly. “I think it is,” he said, glancing quickly at Anne.  
Keeping their hands clasped together, Anne moved closer to Gilbert, then carefully rested her head on his shoulder. She felt her hat shift as Gilbert looked down at her.  
“I hope you won’t lose anyone you love anytime soon,” Gilbert said, his voice almost a whisper.  
Anne smiled slightly. “Thank you, Gilbert.”  
The two of them remained like that for a time, their hands clasped together, their bodies side by side on the bench, with Gilbert looking down at Anne, and Anne with a smile on her face.  
“Gilbert?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Don’t plan on losing me anytime soon, alright?”  
A laugh. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed this work (even though it's kind of short!)  
Check out my other shirbert fics if you liked this one, and find me on Tumblr @paladinpeterparker for more shirbert content!!


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